


PS 3531 
.R52 R3 
1910 
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COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 







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Copyrighted 
By N. W. price, November, 1910. 



(g.CI.A2783G8 



»7 



Acknowledgements are made to the Editors 
of Life and The Atlanta Constitution for permis- 
sion to reprint poems originally appearing in 
their columns. 



Cover Design By Charles Hobart Heald 



To 

A Big Boy Named Phil 

and 

A Little Boy Named Baxter 



** '^10 true mv ^vtnl i0 fumble, jaiit, 
15ut t^m I no pttttntion make/* 



RAVELINGS IN RHYME 

TO A PINE TREE. 

IN solitude's immensity, 
With brow serene and high, 
A silhouette of density 

Against the bending sky, 
With roots locked round the nurturing veins 

Of mother nature's breast, 
And arms outstretched to winds and rains 

From vaults of east and west ; 
A better type I could not need 

Of perfect strength and calm. 
No fears to fight, no hopes to feed. 

No dreams of help or harm. 
I long to lay this human shell 

So marred by stress and strife 
Upon the mound which feeds so well 

Thy strong and simple life; 
To feel these restless atoms flow 

Through nature's heart to thee. 
And by this transformation know 

Thy great serenity. 

1 



RAVELINGS IN RHYME 



MILADY. 

MILADY is silently dreaming, 
As she sits in the firelight's glow, 
And listlessly taps on the fender 

With her daintily slippered toe. 
The coals lend a warm ruddy color 

To her throat and her shoulders bare, 
And add to the gold glinting lustre 

That lurks in milady's soft hair. 
And what are the thoughts of milady, 

That she lingers with pensive mien 
In the quiet and snug embrasure 

Of the chair with the rose-hued sheen? 
'Tis late, and the summons to slumber 

Is chimed by the clock on the stair, — 
What fancies are these which enfold her 

Alone in the silences there? 
Shall I lead you with noiseless footsteps 

To the back of her tilting chair. 
And deep in the glow of the embers 

Read the thoughts of milady there? 



RAVELINGS IN RHYME 

She thinks of a night of rare beauty, 

Of a garden of stately ferns, 
Of a voice that is deep and gentle. 

Of a touch on her hand that burns ; 
She thinks of a kiss, an entreaty, — 

Oh, the love in that earnest tone. 
As it tells her its strength and its passion, 

And earnestly pleads for her own! 
She thinks of the star-shine, the moonbeams, 

The scent of the rose at her feet. 
The tender good-by, and the echo 

Of steps in reluctant retreat. 

Then milady's sweet eyes grow colder. 

And milady's soft lips less kind. 
And the hearth seems to blaze with dollars 

As we read there milady's mind. 
It's a house in town that is pictured. 

And a villa in old Capri, 
It's a cruise in a floating palace. 

And a winter in gay Paree. 
There sparkles the gleam of rich jewels. 

There glows the soft sheen of her gowns, 



RAVELINGS IN RHYME 

And then (how it shadows the picture!) 
It seems that her ladyship frowns. 

Does she weigh the gold of her lover? 
Oh, shame on milady so fair! 

Who clasps with her sea-shell fingers 
The soft Psyche knot of her hair. 

And then — but the firelight grows dimmer, 

And the dull ashes fall through the grate. 
The shadows grow deeper and deeper. 

Like the sombre mantle of fate. 
And the angel of sleep moves gently 

His wand o'er milady's chair, 
As the last soft glow of the embers 

Dies out in the gold of her hair. 



RAVELINGS IN RHYME 



BETTINA 



THERE is beauty in the sunlight's golden 
glow. 

When it falls on earth and sea; 
But the sunlight of Bettina*s happy smile 
Is more bright to me. 



There is beauty in the song of birds and brooks, 

Sweet to any other ear; 
But the melody alone which fills my heart 

Is one voice I hear. 

There is beauty in the rainbow's blended tints. 
And the blue of summer skies; 

But the sweetest color glows within the depths 
Of Bettina's eyes. 

There is beauty in the shining threads of silk 
Which the dusky orients wear; 

But no silken thread e'er held the lustre soft 
Of Bettina's hair. 



RAVELINGS IN RHYME 

Oh, the world is full of beauty to the eye, 

And of music to the ear; 
But my eyes are blind, ears deaf, to all of these, 

When Bettina's near. 

And the spacious caverns in the ocean's depths, 
And rich mines of earth above. 

Hold no treasure to my heart so doubly dear 
As Bettina's love. 



RAVELINGS IN RHYME 



AUTUMN. 

T WALKED through the woods on y ester- 
A day,— 

The leaves lay dead at my feet ; 
They rustled in jest, 
Then sank to rest, 

Awaiting their shroud of sleet. 
A lonely thrush sang a requiem 

'Neath the wooded dome o'erhead, 
Then took his flight 
With the coming night. 

And left me there with the dead. 

I walked through the past on yesterday, 

Life's joys lay pallid and sweet; 
They bounded in throbs, 
Then sank in sobs. 

Dead as the leaves at my feet. 
I sealed with a tear each silent bier, 

And I said good-by to youth; 
Then I turned toward the hills 
Where achievement dwells. 

And the broad white fields of Truth. 



RAVELINGS IN RHYME 



IF YOU'RE WAKING CALL ME 
EARLY. 

IF you're waking call me early, call me early, 
Mary Lou, 
For tomorrow'll be my busy day, and I've a lot 

to do; 
I'm going for a canter at seven with Castlewait, 
And must be home in time to change my dress 

by half-past eight 
For the sail with Johnny Martin, — he's such a 

clever chap. 
He's worth a million dollars, too, his wife will 

have a snap! 
Then the cavalry manoeuvres begin at ten 

o'clock, — 
I must meet that stunning Captain; I'll wear my 

new white frock. 
The Holden's breakfast is at twelve I guess — 

let's see the card; 
Perhaps it's to announce at last Hermine's caught 

Phil Girard! 

8 



RAVELINGS IN RHYME 

She's welcome to the silly, he tires me to death, 
He never wears the proper clothes or draws a 

sober breath. 
I'll have to think of some excuse to tear myself 

away, 
For I've promised Phylis Darden I'd be at her 

matinee, — 
She's giving it for Florence, and when we leave 

the show 
We're going to her sister's house for Russian tea, 

you know. 
I'll have to hurry home and dress, for I'm to meet 

my fate 
At Mrs. Mechlin's dinner, which I believe's at 

eight. 
She's promised she will seat me at the table next 

His Nibs, 
Lord somebody from somewhere, — but then, she 

tells such fibs. 
I hope she'll change her menu, — she ought to 

have a hint. 
It's always just the same old thing from soup 

to creme de menthe. 



RAVELINGS IN RHYME 

We go from there to Pitkin's to Miranda's debut 

ball; 
They're having Zilwig's orchestra, — bass drums, 

fire works and all! 
What's lacking in distinction they'll compensate 

with noise. 
And I guess the place will fairly bulge with silly 

girls and boys. 
The midnight supper — There's the post! Please 

run and get my mail! 
I'm looking for a line from Jess to tell me when 

we sail. 
'Twill be a blessing to escape from this 

monotony, — 
Me for the fogs of London and the lights of old 

Paree ! 



10 



RAVELINGS IN RHYME 



TO MINCY. 

A STAR shone in heaven's dome, serene and 
far; 
A simple daisy deigned to love that star: 
Rooted to earth she was, but with delight 
She gazed upon that wondrous star each night. 
And lo! a star-beam stooped and kissed her face, 
And shed its radiance in that lowly place. 

^i ^» JJC Sji 

Art stoops to bless; love reaches high. 
You are the star, the daisy I. 



11 



RAVELINGS IN RHYME 



LIFE. 

A BABE upon its mother's breast lay smiling ; 
Its life was but to sleep and wake again; 
But Time, its babyhood from it beguiling, 
Must teach it soon to feel and know. 

And then? 

And then a fair-haired child, with laugh and 

chatter, 
With lips to kiss and to be kissed again. 
With toys for little dimpled hands to scatter, 
With sunny days and peaceful nights. 

And then? 

And then a little maid with shy eyes, seeming 
To master lessons with a wondrous ken, 
To feel life naught but joy, and deeming 
The whole world fair and glad. 

And then? 



12 



RAVELINGS IN RHYME 

And then a woman grown, with heart and feeling, 
To meet the smile and hear the praise of men, 
And vows of constancy, at love's shrine kneeling, 
So, to be loved and wooed and wed. 

And then? 

And then a wife, to bear with joy and sorrow 
The children which around her grow to men. 
To meet with quiet strength each new to-morrow. 
To give and guide and weep and smile. 

And then? 

And then, — ah ! then, the sunset's golden glimmer, 
The lengthening shadows falling at her feet. 
The gloaming, and the star-light's silver shimmer, 
Then peaceful slumber, — endless, dreamless, 
sweet. 



13 



RAVELINGS IN RHYME 



ALLUSIONSINALLITERATION. 

PRETTY petticoats are plentiful in populous 
Paree, 
Cathedrals climb the clouds in old Cologne, 
A fair phoenix furls the flag of fame o'er Frisco's 
fading fires, 
Weak wags wear wisdom's wigs in Washing- 
ton. 

Philadelphians (prunes and prisms) place a ped- 
estal for Penn, 
Chicago's cheek and chime of chink we cheer, 
Boasting Boston's bins are bulging with big 
barrels of baked beans, 
And dainty dimpled Dresden's doubly dear. 

London's lords laugh at her ladies linking lead- 
ership with love, 
Berlin blows bubbles bugling bars of Bach, 
Righteous Rome reveals a rollicking religeux in 
red; 
And luring lips lisp love in Little Rock. 

14 



RAVELINGS IN RHYME 

Denver's dazzling dome of daylight deals a death- 
blow to disease, 
Atlanta's adam's apple's all athirst, 
Monte Carlo makes mad mendicants and merry 
millionaires, 
Weimer weds wisdom to a wiener-wurst. 

Old Vienna's veiled Venuses make virtue's vic- 
tories vain, 
New Orleans is naughty but she's nice. 
Restful Richmond rears her residents with rules 
regarding race. 
New York's a nursling nation's paradise. 



15 



RAVELINGS IN RHYME 



HEART'S EASE. 

I SAT by the swirling waters of a river that 
flowed to the sea; 
The twilight's darkening shadows fell silently 

over me; 
The rising mist from the water dropped its span- 
gles in my hair, 
And cooled with its murky presence the silent 
and sultry air. 

I could hear alone the gurgling of the water's 

circling dart, 
I could feel alone the throbbing of my own 

unhappy heart. 
While I told the stream my sorrow as I leaned 

on its mossy crest, 
And mingled my tears with its waters and cried 

my heart to rest. 



16 



RAVELINGS IN RHYME 

In monotone soft and soothing it lulled my rest- 
less heart, 

And bade me with quiet purpose to bravely do 
my part. 

It kissed its banks near my fingers, and smiled 
when it spoke to me; 

It locked my grief in its bosom, and carried it to 
the sea. 

And now when the turbid friction of life and its 

cares oppress, 
And my mind and heart grow weary and my 

strength and hope grow less, 
I whisper them to the river, the griefs that sadden 

me, 
And it shrouds them in its waters, and buries 

them in the sea. 



17 



RAVELINGS IN RHYME 



MA BELLE. 

IN her hair the sunbeam's kisses 
Seem to play at hide-and-seek, 
And the fairest flush of roses 
Rests upon her velvet cheek. 
In her eye the lights and shadows 
Of the night and morning blend, 
And unto her brow the lilies 
All their fairness seek to lend. 

To her breath the dewy wild rose 
All its sweetest fragrance gives. 
On her lips the warmth and color 
Of the bright carnation lives. 
In the curve of every feature, 
In each dimple fair and bright 
Rests a dream or dwells a poem, 
Glows a vision of delight. 

On her throat and arms and shoulders 
Nature's fairest charms abide; 



18 



RAVELINGS IN RHYME 



Through each fold which falls about her 
Graceful seraphs seem to glide. 
Youth and health and artless freedom 
Give each move a buoyant grace, 
Vieing by its subtle presence 
With the beauty of her face. 

But the charm which most entrances, 
Holds each heart a captive there. 
Dwells not in her voice or features. 
Lurks not in her shining hair. 
'Tis a power deeper, truer, 
*Tis a charm no eye can see; 
'Tis the warmth of her sweet nature, 
'Tis her mind's fair chastity. 

As the flowers give their fragrance. 
So her presence gives delight; 
As the sunbeams shed their radiance, 
So her nature sheds its light. 
Once to see her is to love her, 
Once to know her is to own 
That she is the brightest jewel 
Which adorns fair Nature's crown. 

19 



RAVELINGS IN RHYME 



THE SNOWFLAKE AND THE 
TEAR. 

A SNOWFLAKE fell upon her cheek, and as 
it melting lay 
Her lover dried it with a kiss, and laughing went 

his way. 
A tear-drop fell upon her cheek, — ah me! the 

telling years. 
Love sipped the limpid snowflake, nor lingered 
for the tears. 



20 



RAVELINGS IN RHYME 



THE AWAKENING. 

IN a garden full of flowers, watered by the sum- 
mer showers. 

Drooped a rosebud on her stem; 
Buds around her opening daily nodded to each 
other gaily, 

But she seemed not one of them. 

Ever there is silence bending, never from her 
bosom sending 

Breath of fragrance on the air; 
Opening not to spray of fountain or to zeph5rr 
from the mountain. 

She was passionless as fair. 

And her velvet leaves closed tightly when the 
dew-drops kissed her nightly, 

And the breeze for love would sob; 
Pure and cold and white they found her, and they 
wound their arms around her. 

But her heart pulse would not throb. 

21 



RAVELINGS IN RHYME 

So they left her for another — for a more respon- 
sive lover, 

And she wondered why there dwelt 
In her heart no warmth or sweetness, in her life 
no rich completeness. 

Which her sister roses felt. 

Then the night-wind came and swayed her, softly 
on his bosom laid her, 

Drew her to him, held her fast, 
And he breathed down in her cold heart, and he 
felt her silent pulse start. 

Waking to its strength at last. 

Other night-winds had caressed her, other loving 
arms had pressed her, 

But had left her cold as death ; 
He alone her soul awakened, he alone her pulses 
quickened, 

By his warm congenial breath. 



22 



RAVELINGS IN RHYME 

And she blushingly dissembled, though her being 
sweetly trembled 

In his passionate embrace; 
But she knew he was her teacher, and had roused 
her sleeping nature 

By his breath upon her face. 

And a warm responsive feeling o'er her silent 
senses stealing 

Told her of love's subtle dart; 
And her leaves relaxed their tightness 'round 
their shrine of virgin whiteness. 
As she drew him to her heart. 

To its purest depths she led him, on its sweetest 
fragrance fed him. 

Until all the night had flown; 
And her sisters in the morning saw no bud that 
stem adorning, 

But a perfect rose, full blown. 



22, 



RAVELINGS IN RHYME 



TIME stroked his hoary beard, 
And said to Youth: 
"My secrets all are yours? 

YouVe wise, forsooth!" 

On Age's thoughtful brow 

He laid his hand, 
And said: "You now begin 

To understand." 



24 



RAVELINGS IN RHYME 



HOBSON'S CHOICE. 

PRETTY Polly, merry Mag,— 
Take your choice, my sonny; 
Weary work's a heartless hag. 
Never mind the money! 

But Miss Polly dotes on clothes — 
Cupid cannot buy them; 
And Miss Maggie's taste for shows 
Calls you to supply them ! 

Weary work's a heartless hag. 
But she's got you, sonny. 
Good-by, Polly! Good-by, Mag! 
Farewell, matrimony! 



25 



RAVELINGS IN RHYME 



KISMET. 

A TREMBLING leaf hung lightly on its stem 
Above the waters of a streamlet clear; 
The tree that bore it proudly held it out, 
And of her daughters all it was most fair. 

The zephyrs kissed it as they glided past, 
And left it swaying in the autumn air ; 
The rain-drops fell upon its velvet cheek. 
And gently brought its brightest color there. 

The wind, in murmuring cadence from the hills, 
Asked boldly for a dance unto its song; 
The storm-drops rudely pressed it as they passed 
To swell the stream below, in countless throng. 

But it was tired of its restless life. 

Nor liked the playful kisses of the breeze; 

It hated by the rain to be caressed. 

And longed for life remote from all of these. 



26 



RAVELINGS IN RHYME 

Thus trembling on its stem in discontent 

It saw the stream below, and thought what rest 

'Twould be to lie upon its waters clear, 

And to be rocked upon its gentle breast. 

E'en as it wished, it fell into the stream; 
And swiftly borne upon its bosom tide, 
Without the rest or peace it hoped to find. 
It passed on to the river deep and wide. 

Tossed by the ceaseless motion of the waves. 
It passed into the ocean's endless deep; 
In each successive current failing still 
To find the longed-for rest or needed sleep. 

Ah, thus, alas, it often is in life, — 

The stream that we had hoped would give us rest 

But rushes onward to the river dark. 

And bears us there on its deceptive breast. 

Too late we find its brightness but allures 
Us, all resistless, to its bosom fair; 
And then, with mocking laugh, it bears us on 
Into the endless ocean of despair. 

27 



RAVELINGS IN RHYME 



GRACE. 

THERE'S a girl I know right well, 
Of whom I'd like to tell,— 
Give you just a little trace 
Of Grace. 

She is gay and debonaire, 
Yet has sympathy to spare; 
Suits any time or place, — 
Does Grace. 

She can tighten the purse strings 
Or can make your cash take wings ; 
She can lead you any pace, — 
Can Grace. 

She's responsive, she's unique. 
She is dainty, she is chic; 
Like a bit of rare old lace, — 
Is Grace. 



28 



RAVELINGS IN RHYME 

She's the trump of any pack, 
Be the suit in red or black; 
She's the queen that beats the ace,- 
Is Grace. 

She's a good one first and last; 
She's to count on hard and fast; 
You can trust her back or face; — 
That's Grace. 

She is loyal and sincere, 
When you want her she is there ; 
She's just suited to your case, — 
Is Grace. 



29 



RAVELINGS IN RHYME 



THE NIGHT BIRD. 

AS I lay upon my pillow, 
By night's solitude oppressed, 
And the darkness pressed my temples 
With a hand of vague unrest, 
Weariness of mind and member 
Seemed to banish restful sleep. 
And I felt a wave of sorrow 
O'er my tired senses creep. 

Suddenly I heard a chirping; — 
'Twas a bird, out in the rain; 
First I thought it was an echo 
In my thought-distracted brain; 
But the song rose full and buoyant 
From a throat no art could teach. 
With a sermon in each cadence 
No sedate divine could preach. 



30 



RAVELINGS IN RHYME 

And it soothed my throbbing temples 
Like a mother's gentle hand, 
While my senses straggled idly 
Into restful slumberland. 
* * * * 

Wisdom's torch may lead the reason 

Into paths serene and white. 

But a child, a bird, a flower 

Fills the heart with warmth and light. 



31 



RAVELINGS IN RHYME 



THE FLOWER AND THE MAID 



s 



AID the bee unto the flower: 
"Let me of your honey sip." 
Said the man unto the maiden: 
"Let me kiss your glowing lip." 

"Drink thou freely," said the flower; 
"I but bloom my sweets to give." 
"Aye, my love," replied the maiden, 
" 'Tis in giving that I live." 

And the flower, still a flower. 
Bloomed serene, with heart of flame; 
But the maid, no longer maiden, 
Wore the scarlet badge of shame. 



32 



RAVELINGS IN RHYME 



THE CURTSY. 

ii^KTOXJ dropped a pretty curtsy when you met 

i Lord Lefingwell," 
Said Geraldine to Charlotte, the little village 
belle. 

"Let me go and find it for you," said her suitor, 

Georgie Drew. 
"If no one chanced to pick it up I'll bring it back 

to you." 

"Please do," she said. "To drop it, was surely a 

mistake ; 
These fortune-hunting foreigners should only 

have *the shake.' " 



33 



RAVELINGS IN RHYME 



THEN AND NOW. 

THEN — her length was twenty inches, 
Now — her waist is just that girth; 
Then — the moon was her desire, 
Now — she simply wants the earth. 

Then — she grasped a small tin rattle. 

Now — she steers a limousine; 
Then — her dress a simple cotton, 

Now — it wears a dazzling sheen. 

Then — one ringlet crowned her forehead, 
Now^ — it's piled with puffs and rat; 

Then — a little cap of worsted. 
Now — a fifty-dollar hat. 

Then — her words were few and lisping. 
Now — she doesn't lisp, she "spiels;" 

Then — her little foot was sockless, 
Now — she wears Du Barry heels. 



34 



RAVELINGS IN RHYME 



Then — her jewels were but dimples, 
Now — they sparkle like the sun ; 

Then — the day would end at evening, 
Now— at dusk it's just begun. 

Then — her drink was white and luke-warm. 

Now — it's amber, and is cold; 
Then— it must be fresh, and sweetened, 

Now— it's "dry" and very old. 

Then — life's pendulum swung slowly. 

Now — it's moving pretty fast; 
Then Mi-Nino with a future. 

Now — Milady with a past. 



35 



RAVELINGS IN RHYME 



EVOLUTION. 

AMARSHMALLOW with blinking eyes, 
That nurses, gurgles, sleeps and cries. 

A restless something on the floor. 
An animated sponge — no more. 

A question mark that eats and drinks; 
(One would believe it almost thinks.) 

A hundred pounds of appetite; 
A holy terror and delight. 

A flowered hat, an oval face, 
A petticoat of fluffy lace. 

A quiet mien of strong repose. 
The stately tread of one who knows. 

The which, the how, the where, the when, — 
The Suffragette of Nineteen-Ten. 

36 



RAVELINGS IN RHYME 



RESPONSES. 

^^QPEAK, March wind, softly tell me 
^ What tender message bear ye?" 
And it answered with a gust, 
Covering my best clothes with dust: 

"Double-barreled blizzards and striped hose." 

"O April, fickle maiden, 
What's in thy bosom hidden?" 
And she answered with a thud 
Which congealed my thin blue blood : 

"Forked lightning, Spring fever, and grub 
worms." 

"O lovely June-time, tell me 
What dreamy fancies fill thee?" 
And the answer stung with pain 
All my fever-heated brain: 

"Wilted collars, mosquitoes, freckles, and 
bed-bugs." 



37 



RAVELINGS IN RHYME 

"Ah, old Winter, brave and true. 

Name the children born to you!" 

And the answer stunned a frog, 

Idly sunning on a log: 

"Burnt up, snowed up, chilblain, sneeze. 
Busted pocket-book, and freeze." 



38 



RAVELINGS IN RHYME 



AN EASTER IDYL. 



IT'S just a simple bonnet, 
With a single rose upon it, 
And the little face beneath it is quite serene and 
still; 

But it took a week to buy it. 
And it takes an hour to tie it, 
And the good Lord only knows how long 'twill 
take to pay the bill. 



39 



RAVELINGS IN RHYME 



BANJO SONG. 

WORL'S full o' niggers, nigger's full o* sin, 
(Cool breeze blowin' over me,) 
But Peter's at de gate an' he's gwine t' let us in, 

(Woodpecker's in de 'simmon tree.) 
Satan in de tater patch, debble in de co'n, 

(Cool breeze blowin' over me,) 
Nebber see'd de like since I wuz bo'n, 
(Woodpecker's in de 'simmon tree.) 

Had an ole grey hoss an' she had a sore back, 

(Cool breeze blowin' over me,) 
When she died I laid her on de railroad track, 

(Woodpecker's in de 'simmon tree.) 
Now I got a mule an' a cabin t' boot, 

(Cool breeze blowin' over me,) 
De road done los' dat damage suit, 

(Woodpecker's in de 'simmon tree.) 



40 



RAVELINGS IN RHYME 



T'ree big watermelons ripenin* in de sun, 

(Cool breeze blowin' over me,) 
Ole Mose come erlong an' den dey wuz but one, 

(Woodpecker's in de 'simmon tree.) 
Pretty li'l yaller gal settin' in my lap, 

(Cool breeze blowin' over me,) 
I ain't got a nickel but I don't give a rap, 

(Woodpecker's in de 'simmon tree.) 

Len' me half a dollar an' I'll take yer to de show, 

(Cool breeze blowin' over me,) 
Look at dat nigger how he handles dat bow, 

(Woodpecker's in de 'simmon tree.) 
Possum in de winter time, chicken in de spring, 

(Cool breeze blowin' over me,) 
Take down de banjo, le' me cut de pigeon wing, 

(Woodpecker's in de 'simmon tree.) 

Refrain. 

Roll, Jerden, roll; roll, Jerden, roll; 
Debbie's mighty cute, but he can't ketch Sambo. 
Roll, Jerden, roll. 



41 



RAVELINGS IN RHYME 



WHAT I WANT. 

I'D ruther be a nigger dan po' white trash. 
So'd I. 
But 1*11 tell you whut I want er I wish I may die ; 
I want a water-melon an' I want a biled ham, 
An' I want a fried chicken wid gooseberry jam, 
An' I want a good mule an' I want a houn' dog. 
An' I want — an' I want a razer-backed hog; 
And' I want a juicy possum an' some sweet pota- 
toes, too; 
But I wouldn't be no po' white trash. Would you? 



42 



RAVELINGS IN RHYME 

IN THE SOUTH. 
(Lines in italics are sung.) 

TIV'HEN de moon hangs high an* de whip-Po'' 
^r ^iii hollers, 

Maria, Maria; wha's Joshua? 

I decla' Maria, it's awful hot an' dusty, 

Seems to me I never wuz so thusty; 

(Wish I had a watermelon.) 
An' dis worV is full o* trouble, 
An' de nigger's work is double, 

(I smell some'n like a watermelon.) 

Shet yo' mouf, Columbus John; 

Wake up, Jo, an' shell dis co'n. 

(I sho' do smell a watermelon.) 

Why don't Josh come fill dis tub. 

An' hang dese clo's out while I rub? 

(Fo' God, I smell a watermelon!) 
Mister Gabrel's sleefiin' late, 
Peter's waitin' at de gate, 

Mandy, wha' dat nigger Josh? 



43 



RAVELINGS IN RHYME 

No mo* walkin* in de san' 
In dat holy, happy Ian', 
I say, wha* Josh? 

White robes hangin * on de line, 
Jew's-harps wid a golden shine, 

(My nose is got de watermelon itch.) 

Keep yo' do's all clean an' white. 
Keep yo' harps all shinin' bright, 
Tu'n de debble fum yo' do'. 
Use yo' grace an' Pray fer mo'. 

Who dat callin' fum de shed? 

Got a watermelon on he' head? 

Stealin' here in broad day-light! 

(Well, t'ank de Lord my nose wuz right! 

I knowed I smelt a watermelon.) 



44 



FATE weaves in life's web of color 
Many skeins of joy, 
But there is no thread that brightens 
More than just a boy. 



45 



RAVELINGS IN RHYME 



BAXTER-BOY. 

I HAVE a little playmate, 
A jolly little clown, 
With mischief ever lurking 
Within those eyes of brown; 
A romping rascal full of joy. 
His name? Why, it is Baxter-boy. 

I have a little comrade. 

Ah, such a loyal lad; 

He's happy when I'm happy. 

And sorry when I'm sad. 

In shade or sunshine just the same. 

And Baxter-boy's my comrade's name. 

I have a little teacher. 

His questions test my mind ; 

I must be quick to answer. 

And no excuses find. 

It keeps me busy as can be; 

My teacher's Baxter-boy, you see. 

46 



RAVELINGS IN RHYME 



I have a little lover, 

He writes me dainty notes, 

He brings me dandelions. 

And on my merits dotes. 

His love is gold without alloy; 

And — yes, his name is Baxter-boy. 

Yes, lover, teacher, playmate 

And friend I find in one. 

And so he fills completely 

My days from sun to sun. 

Ah Time, I beg you not destroy 

In manhood's years the Baxter-boy. 



47 



RAVELINGS IN RHYME 



PRINCE AND VASHTI 

PRINCE was just a dog, 
Vashti was a cat; 
Prince would chase the hog, 
Vashti chased a rat. 

Prince's tail was pug, 
Vashti's reached her nose; 
Prince enjoyed a run, 
Vashti liked repose. 

Prince's chin was smooth, 
Vashti's whiskers grew; 
Prince could howl and bark, 
Vashti could but mew. 

Prince knew how to swim, 
Vashti didn't know ; 
Prince would run down town, 
Vashti wouldn't go. 



48 



RAVELINGS IN RHYME 



Though they differed quite 
On such points as these, 
Yet we must admit 
They both hated fleas. 



49 



RAVELINGS IN RHYME 



THE TWO CLOCKS. 

THE busy little French clock hurries fast. 
As if to say: "This moment cannot last; 
Tick tock, — make each one count, they swiftly fly ; 
Ding dong, — don't let an idle hour slip by." 

The old hall clock, with dignity severe, 
Serenely chimes the hours from year to year. 
It says: "Now make haste slowly, and, my son. 
Take time to finish well each task begun." 

So while we're young, with agile mind and hand. 
We'll answer to the little clock's demand; 
And, like the old hall clock, reposeful be. 
When wisdom gives us power and dignity. 



50 



RAVELINGS IN RHYME 



THE HANGING. 

iiT T7ERE you ever at a hanging, Auntie, 
W dear?" 

"Mercy, no!" 
"Well, there's surely going to be one now and 
here; 

Let's go! 
It's a wicked Chinese lady dressed in red. 

Come and see! 
And they're going to leave her hanging till she's 
dead." 

"Dear me!" 

With a merry Httle twinkle in his eye. 

Hurrying, 
Then he led me down the hall to see her die, — 

Poor thing! 
And climbing on a chair he hung her picture 

On the wall. 
And turned and looked at me and laughed and 
laughed. 

That's all. 

51 



RAVELINGS IN RHYME 



MAMMY'S LULLABY. 

OH, de whippo'will is singin' 
In de twilight's spreadin' gloom. 
And de torch-light flickers dimly 
T'roo de shadders in de room. 
An' my littl' dusky lamkin 
Cuddles close to mammy's breast. 
Cause it's ti'ed now an' sleepy. 
An' it's foun' a place to rest. 

Mammy's arms'U hold it closely, 
Mammy's heart'U keep it warm, 
Mammy's love'll guide it safely 
T'roo de sunshine and de storm; 
Mammy's lips'll heal its bruises. 
Mammy's breast'll soothe its cry. 
Mammy's song'll lead it gently 
To de dream-Ian' in de sky. 



52 



RAVELINGS IN RHYME 

Like a littl* downy chicken 
'Neath de shelter o' de wing, 
It'll nestle down er chirpin' 
When it hears its mammy sing ; 
It's my cozy littl' cricket, 
It's my maple sugar coon, 
It's my pretty sweet-potato, 
It's my yaller rose in June. 



53 



RAVELINGS IN RHYME 



SKY PICTURES. 

IN a southern village 'neath a tree, 
Sitting in a swing two girls I see; 
Little Lila, sturdy, fearless, kind, 
And her playmate, just a year behind. 

With imagination's ready eye. 
They have made a canvas of the sky. 
And with floating clouds have pictured there 
Wondrous forms of sea and earth and air. 

Now a chariot with steed a-foam 
Sweeps majestic o'er the heavenly dome. 
Then a fairy queen with flowing hair 
And a winged angel enter there. 
Fishes, fowls, and animals galore, — 
Each in turn that sea of air explore. 



That was many, many years ago. 

And the sky has changed, as 'twill, you know. 

54 



RAVELINGS IN RHYME 

Now Miss Lila's writing for the press, 

With a scholar's breadth and cleverness, 

And the maze of a metropolis 

Has ensnared the other little miss. 

Yet with friendship's clasp they often meet 

Just in fancy on a village street, 

And with faces turned toward the skies 

Live again in childhood's paradise. 



55 



RAVELINGS IN RHYME 



THE BEETLE PARTY. 

MISTRESS Beetle gave a party 
At the rose-bush by the wall; 
She had a lovely programme, 

And refreshments for them all. 
Miss Cricket sang a solo, 

And Miss Honey-Bee sang, too, 
Accompanied by Katy-Did, 

Who scraped her wings 'most through. 
They all enjoyed the menu; 

The fresh honey was a treat, 
*Twas served in rose-leaf saucers, 

And looked so cool and sweet. 
The table was a toad-stool. 

And the eating forks a thorn. 
The dew was served in blue-bells, 

And was gathered fresh at morn. 
Miss June-Bug's dress was gorgeous, 

And when Miss Fire-Fly came 
She made quite a sensation 

In her handsome skirt of flame. 



56 



RAVELINGS IN RHYME 



Miss Yellow-Jacket's costume 

Was striped — a perfect fit; 
Her waist is very slender, 

And she seems quite proud of it. 
Miss Lady-Bug is charming, 

And certainly looks well 
In that polka-dotted satin ; 

She's decidedly a belle! 
When the Spider sisters entered 

It created quite a din ; 
They really weren't invited. 

They just happened to drop in. 
They're smart, but no one likes them, 

They hardly left the wall. 
They're not a bit attractive 

And have no style at all. 
Lord Caterpillar's getting fat; 

He wore his overcoat, 
It has a big fur collar 

That comes up 'round his throat ; 
He must be quite rheumatic 

For he didn't take it off; 
He moves with difficulty, too. 

And has an awful cough. 

57 



RAVELINGS IN RHYME 

Miss Mosquito tried to gossip 

With her naughty little wings; 
Her voice is so unpleasant, 

And she says such stinging things. 
Mistress Grasshopper seemed happy, 

And wore her usual smile ; 
She's rather green and awkward, though- 

I do not like her style; 
She keeps her arms a-kimbo 

And her feet up near her waist; 
Her manners are not graceful, 

She moves with too much haste. 
Grandfather Longlegs came quite late, 

I guess he had to walk; 
He's such a dear old fellow, 

I'd like to hear him talk. 

So you see the Beetle party 

Was quite a swell affair; 
Next time they're entertaining 

I hope that you'll be there. 



58 



RAVELINGS IN RHYME 



JUST A BOY. 

WHEN I'm big I'll be a soldier; 
(That is what he said, 
As he placed a paper helmet 
On his towsled head.) 

And I'll blow a silver trumpet 

Marching with a band. 
(Waving high a crooked elm branch 

In his little hand.) 

And I'll make a big steam engine, 

And a red balloon 
That will carry me and Dodie 

Up around the moon. 

And I'll shoot some bears and tigers, 

And a cave I'll dig 
Deeper than the highest mountain. 

And about as big. 



59 



RAVELINGS IN RHYME 

And I'll write some books and stories 

All about a good 
Prince and princess in a castle, 

And Red Ridinghood. 

And I'll make a lot of money, 

And I'll buy a dog, 
And an orchard full of apples. 

And a candy frog. 

Won't you be glad when I'm grown up? 

Gee, if I was that 
I would be as tall as Uncle 

In his Sunday hat! 

Wish 'twas now, and all the other 

Little boys 'round here 
Could be with me when it happens ! 

Don't you, Auntie dear? 
* * * 

Bless his artless, ardent prattle. 
Bless his youthful dreams, — 

How they brighten days of drizzle 
With their sunny beams ! 

60 



RAVELINGS IN RHYME 



Bless those castles, bless the builder 

Without tools or art; 
How he keeps youth's wholesome fragrance 

Fresh within my heart. 

Fate weaves in life's web of color 

Many skeins of joy, 
But there is no thread that brightens 

More than just a boy. 



61 



DEC ^9 '^'^^ 



One copy del. to Cat. Div. 
19 I9iu 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 



018 391 117 A 



